


Take My Hand

by Spicaa



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 00:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicaa/pseuds/Spicaa
Summary: Donna and Harvey and new life in Seattle.





	Take My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> My first post-finale fic is more of what I want and see for their future, and I love that it was open enough that it can leave a lot to imagination. I decided to write in Donna's POV because I'm gonna miss her like crazy. Hope you like this version of their future too — let me know :)

**TAKE MY HAND**

It's hard to adjust to life out of New York.

It starts with the time zones.

Between the surprise wedding, listing both their apartments, the honeymoon in the Maldives and, finally, the flight to Seattle, Donna spends the first week in the city they now call their home in a mood. She hasn't been sleeping well, she's tired of seeing houses she doesn't like, she's still adjusting to a different routine at work, even though they work less hours now; somehow she spends her free hours sleeping. She's not sure she really likes Seattle just yet.

It's two in the morning of their first Saturday there — they don't work Saturdays anymore, so you'd think she'd be in bed by this time. It's really not the case — she and Harvey had a lovely dinner at Mike and Rachel's, got home and had some fun time of their own, after which Harvey promptly fell asleep and she… simply wasn't able to. She's restless, she feels a little queasy, she doesn't feel good even after taking a quick warm shower. That's how she finds herself perusing pictures the realtor sent her of houses they might be interested in viewing, sitting in the living room of their rented apartment. It's chilly here in October, the tea she's made is nearly over and she doesn't want to risk turning on the tv and waking Harvey.

She settles for a book instead, but it doesn't really hold her attention for long — not when her phone vibrates on the coffee table and when she reaches it she sees a text from Louis. Of course; only Louis would be up at this hour in New York.

"She likes Shakespeare," is what the text says; attached to it is a picture of Lucy fast asleep against Louis' shoulder.

Donna smiles, already putting the book aside to reply to him. The baby is the cutest, and even though they've been gone for just a week she already misses her. She and Harvey are her godparents, but Donna is pretty sure she's her favorite. They'll go back to New York for the holidays though — to spend time with her parents and then New Year's Eve at Louis'. She's adamant she will still be a part of Lucy's life, even if she's far away.

They text back and forth for a few minutes, about the move and the firm and the clinic, and she lets Louis go so he can sleep for a bit before the baby wakes up again and she feels a sudden tightness in her chest, the kind that comes from missing something very much, or wanting something really bad. It's a mix of both to her, she thinks. Combined with the tiredness from the jet lag.

It's silly, really — they've only been married for almost two months, she's the one who suggested Seattle to Harvey when he mentioned leaving the firm to go somewhere and start over, and she's happy to be here because it means they have more time to be themselves — their priority isn't the job, even if the new job is very important to them. Yet, she's the one who's still feeling so emotional after weeks of that decision. She misses her things from her apartment and she misses being on the same timezone as her mother. It's as ridiculous as that.

"Hey," Harvey's voice shakes her from her reverie, and he frowns when their eyes meet. "What's wrong?"

She never even realized she's been crying.

He's by her side in the split of a second; her breath catches on her throat when she sees how worried he looks. She's still clutching her phone and the remains of her tea are going cold.

"It's nothing, I just couldn't sleep," she sniffs and shakes her head, because it's really not that deep. "Did I wake you?"

His arm slips over her shoulders and he looks a little relieved she's apparently well but she knows he won't let it go.

"No, I just woke up and you weren't there," his other hand comes to her face and he wipes the trace of tears away. "Donna, what's going on?"

"I couldn't sleep," she repeats because it's the truth. "These time zones are messing me up. We were in Asia ten days ago, Harvey."

"That's not it," he says gently, hoping for a better answer.

Donna breathes out slowly, her hand reaching up to hold his. She kisses his knuckles softly, feels the metal of his wedding ring against her skin, and it's amazing that she feels calmer already, just to have him by her side.

"I think I'm pregnant," she whispers, eyes locked with his. In the low light of the living room, and the city lights of Seattle behind the curtains of the living room. It's different, she's still getting used to it, she feels so emotional, but it feels right.

Harvey only gapes at her, his hand holding hers more tightly.

"My emotions are everywhere," she continues. "Jet lag isn't helping. Louis sent a picture of Lucy and I realized that I really, really miss her."

Harvey laughs, and she sees how teary his eyes are too.

"You think you're pregnant?" He repeats, and this time it's him who's kissing her hand.

Donna nods. "I mean, we didn't plan it, but we didn't plan against it."

He shakes his head. "No, we didn't."

"Maybe it's too soon," she suggests, feeling so overwhelmed by finally saying the words out loud. "We just got here."

They've been together for seven months only — married for a little over a month, in Seattle for one week, and she's pretty sure she got pregnant in between Faye's trial and their wedding, but she isn't completely sure yet.

"It's not too soon," Harvey whispers to her. "It's just right."

Donna lets out a laugh — the anguish is gone, just like the heavy feeling that's been inside of her since the possibility crossed her mind that they might be having a baby. He tugs on her hand, whispers a 'come here' and she's sitting across his lap, sharing soft, small kisses with him, the mirth and happiness in his eyes enough to fill her heart with joy.

"You haven't asked me if I'm sure," she says after a moment.

Harvey smiles brightly. "I don't have to. You're Donna."

She arches her eyebrows. "That I am. I asked Rachel for doctor recommendations yesterday," she takes a deep breath. "I have an appointment on Monday morning."

"I'll be there," he says simply.

"You have a deposition on Monday," she reminds him.

"I'll give Mike a call, he'll understand. Besides, we don't have Ray anymore," he reminds her, "and we're sharing the car for now. I'll drive you."

"I'm sure Samantha is keeping Ray busy," she says, remembering how their friend hired Ray as soon as Harvey let him go. "You're missing your car club, aren't you?" Donna teases, fully knowing the answer.

He shakes his head. "I'm just thinking I'll be driving an SUV before I know it."

She laughs. "Well, don't be so excited about it. I know you wanted a minivan."

He presses his hands around her waist, bringing her even closer; he laughs with her, shaking his head slightly, looking a little incredulous, a little overwhelmed, a little younger. She supposes she looks the same way.

"Hey, I'll drive a minivan any day now if it's with you," he confesses, running his hand through a strand of her hair.

She looks down on him, her fingers tracing the skin of his collarbone, then moving to his neck.

"Let's take it one day at a time, huh?" she says softly. "An SUV first."

Harvey grins. "Sure."

They share a smile and she fits her head against his shoulder, just enjoying the way he's holding her and the way they're both processing everything that's been happening in their lives. His hands caress her side and then her back, softly, carefully, and she feels her eyelids drooping after a few minutes.

"I'd rock a minivan," she says as an afterthought.

Harvey's laughter vibrates from his chest to her head, and she laughs too, a little sleepily. He presses his lips on her hair, hand moving to her thigh, patting her softly.

"I think we both would."

* * *

After a few weeks of searching, they find a place in Blue Ridge, in front of the peninsula, and they see trains go past in front of the sea every morning — it's a different view, but very much welcome. The day they close the deal for the house is the same day they find out they're having a girl — and it's just one baby, despite Harvey joking about minivans a lot.

An SUV will do.

They move in the next weekend, despite not having much furniture besides the basics — a bed, a fully equipped kitchen, and one couch in the living room. The rest of the furniture they'd have to handle in the next few weeks. It's a relief just seeing their boxes finally scattered around, ready to be mingled together for the first time and actually be a part of their home together. Two weeks in, they have downstairs completely covered, including the balcony, and a month later they have the guest bedroom ready, because her parents are visiting next weekend; soon, the only rooms left to furnish are the other two bedrooms and the adjacent bathrooms. His mother's painting is on the wall of the study downstairs, and the master bedroom turns out to be a perfect combination of them both. Donna particularly likes the way the sun bathes the room during sunset, and how she can watch its reflexion on the water of the peninsule in front of them.

That's where they decide to take the first proper pregnancy track pictures. There's an orange glow to the room, and orange is definitely not her color, but he assures her she looks beautiful.

"Look down," Harvey orders, his phone's camera on the ready.

Donna's sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, clad only in a black underwear set — the cotton kind, very comfortable, because they might show their child these pictures later in life. She arches her eyebrow at him, wondering when he became such a photographer, but does what he asks. Her belly isn't particularly noticeable from frontal view, but he's insisted on trying all the angles — she knows it'll be better from the side, it's definitely noticeable. She might cover it up well in the right dresses and clothes but it's very much there when she's like this.

"Gonna take some from your profile now," he says, moving from his spot in front of the bed to the side.

"You're such a professional," Donna says, half teasing half laughing, turning her head to meet his gaze.

He winks back at her. "My models help."

She laughs then, a full laugh, her hand on her lower belly. She's been feeling flutters lately, and she knows that's the baby moving, but Harvey can't feel them yet and she's desperate to share it with him — even if it feels like she and their daughter have a secret already.

"You're so sexy," he says after snapping the picture.

"I think she really gives me an extra glow," she turns her head, that smartass smile playing on her face.

They're on week twenty of this adventure, and with the exception of the now noticeable tummy and her breasts being a little bigger than normal, she hasn't experienced a lot of the famous side effects — nausea for a few weeks and insomnia on occasion. It's all better now.

Harvey takes one more picture and stands up, walking towards her with certain purpose; she bites her lip as he throws the phone somewhere on their bed and joins her — she lies down, but instead of settling on top of her he goes slowly, kissing his way up her leg then stopping by her navel, the mood shifting slightly from sexy to playful. He kisses her lower belly again and again, and the feeling of his sound, playful kisses, along with the flutters she's been feeling make her laugh.

"Had to kiss the baby first," he explains, that silly grin still on his face. "Mommy gets her turn now."

She meets his eyes when he looks up at her, that boyish grin on his face, and then he's moving and kissing her lips like he means it. They part after a few seconds, and she shift her legs so he's between them, elbows on the sides of her head.

"Now that's how Mommy likes it," she whispers against his lips.

They share a grin and a look — Harvey peppers her jaw with kisses, moving to her neck and then her chest, while his hands push her closer to him, palms splaying over her thighs, parting her legs further. If there's one thing about the pregnancy that's affected both of them it's the thrill of it all — she suspects part of her feelings have to do with hormones, but the fact remains that she wants Harvey all the fucking time. It's almost annoying, really. Thankfully he seems to be feeling the same way about her; they've always had a very healthy sex life, thank you very much, but lately it's been… more intense. Fast paced.

She really likes it.

He pulls away to take off his shirt and she's doing the same to her bra; her back hasn't reached the bed yet and he's already cupping her breasts, his face leaning down her chest, and her breath catches on her throat because they've just started and she already feels so good.

They've always been good at reading each other and she's thankful that his hands already take off her panties while he's still lapping at her breasts. She reaches between them a little blindly, because she's so sensitive and he's doing such wonderful things to her — Harvey can multitask just fine when it comes to sex — and she cups his length through the fabric of his pants, earning a hiss from him.

It's clumsy, really, the way they take off his last items of clothing, and they laugh at each other through the despair of it all because it's silly and they have all the time in the world.

He slides into her slowly then, because that realization hits them hard and at the same time. She moans at the sensation, the way he stretches her, the way he whispers her name. Their eyes are on each other, their fingers laced together, their torsos keep touching, rubbing each other, and his hips work relentlessly against hers — they both know she won't last long.

The sun has set by the time they are done, lying side by side in the now darkness of their bedroom. Their hands meet in the middle, even though there's hardly any space between them.

"If that's how every month will go after the pictures, let's be glad I can't get any more pregnant," she jokes.

Harvey laughs, his hand disentangling from hers, caressing her arm, then the side of her body, before settling near her navel. She knows the expression on his face, knows he's turning wistful, and she prepares herself for what's to come because he's been getting so good at rendering her speechless.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, and it's not the first time he's said it and it won't be the last but he says it so simply, with such awe in his tone, that she doesn't even reply. "Sometimes it's hard to believe you're letting me do this with you."

Donna frowns. "Do what?"

"I'm not the greatest guy at families, Donna," he says, and she hates the look on his face. "Yet, here we are. Having a family together."

She cups his cheek in her hand, and he picks up her hand to place a kiss on her palm.

"You're great at families, Harvey. You had parents who loved you, you have a brother who admires you, you have an entire firm in New York City that looks up to you," Donna says softly, her hand coming to rest on top of his on her lower belly. "You've been my family since we met. There's no one else I'd be doing this with. Only you."

He gives her a tight-lipped smile and she sees the unshed tears in his eyes, shifting closer until her nose bumps his.

"There's no one else I'd be doing this with, either," he says. "I can't wait to meet her. I can't wait to fall even more in love with you when we have her, even if I fall a little more every day."

She stares at him, a little taken by his words, and she wonders how it is possible to love someone the way she loves him. Even if he drives her a little crazy at work and at home.

"Me too, Harvey," she whispers. "Me too."

He catches her lips in a kiss and she lets herself feel his skin next to hers, the flutters in her belly and the tingling of her lips.

It's too much sometimes. It's overwhelming and it's pressing and amazing and terrifying.

She welcomes every feeling that comes with it.

* * *

Donna settles to her new job like she does everything else: gracefully.

It's different from the firm, sure, and she likes it, she likes taking care of the finances (because that definitely isn't Mike Ross' best trait) and she loves working with Harvey, but early on she already knows this whole thing of helping the little guys will take a toll on her. Empathy might have been her super power back in New York, but here it leaves her angry and sad and powerless.

That's why she decides to work at the clinic part-time only. It makes sense, because they don't need a Chief Operating Officer all day, and Rachel is the one who handles the associates and interns. Donna likes her flexible hours — she starts working on getting her yoga certificate, just for fun and to prove to herself she can do it, and she volunteers at the local theater three times a week, which turns out to be a good way of making friends.

She's really surprised, however, when she gets home one thursday evening to see Harvey's car already parked in the garage. Since thursdays are usually her busiest days, he sometimes stays in the office to catch up on work — or, she suspects, simply having a drink with Mike.

Donna parks her car next to his — she thinks it's kinda funny they both got SUVs in the end — and the moment she opens the door that leads to their living room a really nice smell invades her nostrils.

She loves it when he gets home before she does.

She leaves her yoga mat by the hallway and turns to the kitchen, finding him stirring something in a pot, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows — she spies his suit jacket draped over the couch and he's actually drinking wine instead of his usual scotch. His eyes raise to meet hers and he smiles instantly, even though he's focused on his task.

"You look like you're in your element," Donna teases, because they've both never been very adventurous in the kitchen, but Seattle gives them free evenings and they've been trying a few things out.

"I saw my mom do this about a thousand times," he replies with a grin. "I wish I had paid more attention, though."

There's a pained expression on his face, but it's funny and not sad. Donna laughs.

"I gotta say, it smells great," she admits, pushing from the wall to walk towards the kitchen island. She means to give him a quick kiss but he lets the spoon on the counter and pulls her close, the kiss turning a little deeper than a simple hello kiss. "Don't, I'm all sweaty."

She's only half-complaining, really, because she knows he doesn't care and she definitely doesn't mind. He's in a good mood, but his mother's death is still recent to them all.

"Sweat looks hot on you," he says when he pulls away. She shakes her head at him, moving to the cabinet to get a glass of water. "How was class?"

"It was fun. Oh, they kind of asked if I'm interested in directing something for the kids, at the theatre," she tells him excitedly. "I might take it. Could be fun."

"I can already see our kid going to your future theatre classes," Harvey comments with a smile. "That's a long way from the COO."

"COO was a long way from the bachelor in theater too," she replies, drinking the rest of the water. "So… what are we having?"

"Chicken parm. It was my favorite for a long time," Harvey says, shaking his head softly. "Haven't had it in ages. Mom had said she'd make it when we came to visit, and I figured I should learn how to make it."

Donna leans against the counter, watching as he turned the stove off; despite this being a first attempt at making something, the counter is remarkably clean, the chicken is already in a baking dish and the oven is turned on.

"You called Marcus?" she asks, even if she already knows the answer. Her hand comes to rest on her belly, caressing softly. She feels the baby moving around, as it's common for this time of the day. Maybe it's because of yoga.

Harvey nods. "Yeah. You wanna try the sauce before I ruin the chicken with it?"

"Let me prepare myself first. Okay, I'm good," she jokes.

He's still shaking his head as he dips the spoon in the pan and feeds it to her. She hums appreciatively, frowning at how tasty it is — or maybe she's just really hungry.

"This is _fine_," she comments once she swallows, moving a strand of hair that has escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

"Yeah?" Harvey asks, looking a little too proud.

"It's actually really good. _Ow_," she lets out a gasp, feeling a stronger movement in her belly. She puts her hand near her bellybutton, over her shirt, wondering where it came from exactly. "I think someone else likes it."

It only takes Harvey a fraction of a second to let go of the spoon so his hand can join hers — she takes it, splaying it over her belly, hoping he'll be able to feel it this time around.

"Is she hiding again?" he asks after a moment, making a face. This has been going on for a few weeks — anytime she thinks he may be able to feel something, nothing happens later.

"I'm not feeling anything," Donna shakes her head, frowning as she looks down. "She's been up and down, though. I think she really likes yoga."

"Come on, kid," Harvey coaxes. "You'll like baseball too, you just don't know it yet."

Donna snorts, although the thought of their little girl in little league isn't far from her mind. That and the theater — it's all good as long as she wants to do it.

"Nothing?" he asks again, looking up at her.

Donna pouts. "Nope. Oh, wait," she says, moving his hand to the other side.

"There's nothing— okay, now I felt it," Harvey says, his eyes brightening up. "There she is!"

"Did you think I've been growing tomatoes in there?" she jokes.

"Well, they are the most sensual of fruits," he replies, but she can see he's far too focused on his hands to even raise his eyes to hers. "Hey, baby girl."

He isn't satisfied with just that, though — soon he's crouching down and rolling up her shirt so he can feel the movements better. They aren't that strong for him, of course, but it's a start. She runs her hands through his hair, and he grins again because the baby is moving once more. He looks at her but it's all very brief — there's someone else holding his attention.

Dinner will be late tonight, but she doesn't even mind.

* * *

It's late April and she's huge.

With her due date approaching and the little feet so often pressing against her ribs, she can't wait to meet her daughter. Not just because she loves her and wants to see her and hold her — also because she's been feeling very uncomfortable. All through her pregnancy she's had very minor issues — swollen fingers and feet, a lot of peeing breaks, some trouble sleeping. All of that was fine compared to feeling this bloated.

Seattle is very rainy during winter, but the sun has started to grace them with more visibility, and normally she'd be in a better mood but she's had to decline Louis' invitation to be there for Lucy's ninth month anniversary (yes, they are celebrating it almost weekly) and had to deal with her mother wondering if they'll have their proper wedding when the baby's older.

As far as Donna's concerned, she's had her proper wedding. She understands that her parents want to see it for real, but it's just not a priority in her life. At least not while she's this huge. Sheila may have been okay with an uncomfortable gown and heels for her wedding, but Donna isn't and she'd rather not deal with that right now.

Especially when she's only two weeks away from giving birth.

She finds Harvey outside in the balcony, having a coffee.

She _misses _coffee. So much. Wine too, but especially coffee.

"Hey," she says, walking slowly towards the lounge chair and immediately laying there — not sitting next to him on the sofa. No, she needs to lie down.

"Hey. How was your mom?" he asks.

"She thought we were setting up a surprise wedding in two weeks when I reminded her of my due date," Donna rolls her eyes. "I told her we're definitely not doing a wedding. I mean, we've had one."

"I thought you said you wanted to celebrate with our friends and families, considering we did that with Louis and Sheila's friends and family," Harvey arches his eyebrows.

"I feel like we've been married for the last… I don't know, thirteen years?" she takes a guess; Harvey shrugs. "Work married, anyway."

He puts his now empty cup on the coffee table then stands to join her on the lounge. He chooses to sit near her feet though — he holds them on his lap, then starts massaging her soles. It feels heavenly.

"Did you ever think about us being married?" he asks.

"Married?" Donna ponders the question, rubbing her hands distractedly on her belly. "Not really. Just together, I guess. I've never cared about a big white wedding, you know. Maybe when I was a kid, but after a while that wasn't important anymore."

Harvey tilts his head. "Maybe we could just… wait until she's a little older and renew our vows, in front of everyone. We can even have it done in New York, easier for all involved."

"You do know we're gonna have a little human with us on the flight to New York, right?"

He points to her middle. "Is that what that is?"

She laughs. "She could be our flower girl, but I don't think my mom can wait that long."

"She'll be your bouquet, then," he suggests.

Donna laughs, wriggling her toes as he touches her feet. Funny — she can actually work with that bouquet thing.

Suddenly she isn't so annoyed anymore.

* * *

Rose is a little late, just like her dad. But also right on time.

Donna is thankful, really. She's late and they schedule a c-section and she doesn't even feel the so called labor pains for long. Harvey is there for the whole thing, right by her side — he's the one who cuts Rose's umbilical cord and he's so nervous and overwhelmed by it all he only remembers to take a picture when they're already in the hospital room. It's endearing, really.

The first hours have been weird — she's _really_ here with them, and it makes total sense but it's also so strange because — well, Donna loves her so much but they don't really know each other yet. They don't know their quirks and their tells and what they need yet. What she does know is that she fell in love with her little girl the second she heard her cry, and she thinks she's still falling, every second she's here.

When the surgery was scheduled her parents flew over to be there for them — her dad will be returning home tomorrow but her mom will stay a little longer, and at first Donna thought this was an exaggeration on her part but now she really gets it.

She kisses the back of Rose's little hand and watches her carefully — she's staring right back at her. Her eyes are a dark blue, and Donna isn't fooling herself thinking she'll stay this way because she can definitely see Harvey's brown eyes in her. There's a wisp of red hair on top of her little head though. A button nose and pouty lips. She thinks those might be all hers.

She's her own person, though, and Donna can't wait to figure that out.

With her parents gone and Harvey down the hall, talking to his brother or Louis or whoever else may be calling, it's her first moment alone with the baby. She made Harvey make sure Mike and Rachel wouldn't visit until the morning because she's so exhausted and she's still recovering from the surgery.

"You took your time, didn't you?" Donna whispers softly to her. "Daddy was going crazy."

Rosie moves her arms a little, as if in agreement.

"Yes, he was," she lets out a laugh. "We're gonna have so much fun, the three of us. You'll see."

They sit in silence for a while, just the two of them getting to know each other. Donna loves her chubby cheeks, the way she opens her mouth and moves her arms and kicks her legs. She's slept on and off for these nearly six hours of life, but she's very active and smart, Donna can already tell.

She sees the cry coming before it happens — the way she crunches up her face and closes her eyes, a sudden look of discontentment in them, and a small cry escapes her tiny lips; Harvey changed her not fifteen minutes ago, so she doubts that's the problem. She knows what's the deal now, and she's a little anxious about it, but she doesn't spend another second dueling on it. She opens her hospital gown swiftly and places Rose close to her breast, instinct making the baby move her head around a little; it was definitely easier when her mother and the nurse were coaching her.

It takes them a few tries, but Rose latches on — a little too strongly for Donna's liking, but she'll take it.

"There you go," Donna says, patting the baby's back softly, a relieved sigh escaping her. "A solid first try on our own. I knew we'd make a fine pair. I'm a pretty fast learner, of course you're the same."

Her breasts feel tender and there's a weird feeling deep inside that she can't quite pinpoint what it is but it's a little uncomfortable. She's read enough of it to know what to expect and it's a little scary but also not as bad as she initially thought. Just… weird. She suspects it'll only get more uncomfortable until she finally gets used to it.

It's such a good sight, though. The way Rose's eyes flutter as she nurses, sometimes meeting Donna's. She knows the baby's eyesight is blurry this early, but there's a sense of complicity between them. It reminds her she's not alone in this.

Donna caresses Rose's head softly, smiles when she notices her little hand grasping at her breast. She grabs it and lets her hand hold her index finger, enjoying the moment with her.

The door opens with a click and she looks up from the baby to see Harvey quietly sneaking in, a jovial look on his face.

"Hey," he says, closing the door behind him. "All good?"

"We're kind of managing breastfeeding alone for the first time," Donna tells him, even if it's kind of obvious. He walks slowly towards them, eyes set on the baby. She looks down too. "I'm proud of us, not gonna lie."

"Not prouder than me," he says softly, sitting on the chair closest to the bed. "She's something, isn't she?"

Donna snickers, shaking her index finger a little — Rose's grip remains strong. "She definitely is," she agrees, then looks up at him. "I love her so much."

"Me too," he smiles. "You want the pillow?"

"Maybe when we move to the other side," Donna shakes her head. "You told anyone the good news?"

"Everyone," Harvey grins. "That was Jessica calling, though. She sends her love."

"We send it right back," she smiles, then looks down as the nipple escapes Rose's lips and she coughs a little. "Oh, God."

There's a moment of intense freaking out, but it doesn't last more than two seconds. Some milk spills, but the baby's back at it. Donna has a feeling she'll be a pro in no time.

Harvey snickers though, then grabs a cloth to wipe the milk from her gown and around Rose's cheek.

"We're gonna get a new level of intimacy in the next few days, I can tell," Donna says, leaning back against her pillows, feeling a little more relaxed. The pressure on her breast definitely feels better, anyway.

"Pregnancy started it," he jokes. "Is it hurting?"

She tilts her head back and forth. "A bit at first. This is gonna take some getting used to."

Rose's grip on her finger weakens a little — seems like Donna isn't the only one relaxed. The baby's looking right at her, and she can't help but smile at the way her eyelids drop when she blinks and how intense her gaze is. Her coloring is pink-ish like that of many newborns, and Donna is still in awe that she and Harvey really made her. She's so taken by her daughter that she doesn't realize she's dropped her hand until her husband reaches for it, a grip as strong as their daughter's. She meets his eyes and sees nothing but love in them. It makes her catch her breath.

"It's amazing," he says softly. "You're amazing."

Donna rolls her eyes. "I knew that, but thanks. I'm pretty sure I didn't make her on my own, though."

"No, but you grew her. You gave birth to her, you're nurturing her. She wouldn't be here without you," Harvey brings her hand to his lips and presses a kiss against her knuckles. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispers, caressing his hand with her thumb.

They spend some time like this, hands clasped while their daughter nurses. It's early but it really feels like the family unit they now are. Not just two, but three.

Harvey grabs the nursing pillow when she notices how sleepy Rose is, following the directions of the nurse and moving her to her other breast; this time it doesn't hurt as much as it relieves a pressure in her breast. Instead of going back to the chair, however, Harvey moves so he's sitting next to her in bed, arm around her own, almost holding the baby. She feels his kiss on her hairline and she relaxes further against him. It's early and it's raw, but she knows they'll make it with outstanding scores.

It's just the way of the Paulsen-Specters, really.

* * *

If there's one thing Donna is sure of, it's that the timing was just right.

They never would have been able to do some things if they were in New York. Someone was always coming for Harvey, for the firm; she was always thrown in the middle of trying to save a reputation or a career, sometimes even her own. She misses the action sometimes, the city, the coffee from across the street, the diner in the corner of her old apartment. But they're all memories now, and she hopes to show them to Rosie one day.

She's able to take a few months of maternity leave and she shouldn't have been so surprised when Harvey asked about his own paternity leave during a meeting at the clinic. He takes a few weeks off when Rosie is born, and it might not have been a lot to some but it means so much to her.

When the time comes for him to go back to work, her mother has already gone home from helping them out; Donna is pretty sure she can handle the baby but he's still reluctant to leave. Maybe because he doesn't want to miss anything — even if right now everything is just napping and feedings and changing diapers.

She gives them some time together every day when Harvey comes home from work — which is also very good because it's some time to herself. Sometimes she'll take a bath, or continue the book she's been reading when Rosie is sleeping. Sometimes she'll text her friends and get baby tips from Louis or an invitation for dinner from Rachel. It's a time as precious to her as it is to Harvey.

Still, she knows their strawberry shortcake won't go long without her mother, especially when she's been eating as often as she is, so Donna is usually the one to interrupt their father and daughter time before the baby gets her first cry out.

She finds them in the living room, and she's surprised Rosie is awake. Harvey is talking to her in that quiet voice of his, that tone she herself only got to hear a handful of times before they got together. From the darkness of the stairway they haven't noticed her, and Donna leans against the wall to appreciate the sight of them — Rosie's wildfire hair against Harvey's white dress shirt. He's holding her with her back on his chest, pointing at the photographs they have scattered around the room, and she follows his hand every time he points again.

He picks up the smallest frame, one she knows well — the photo had been kept by him for many years. The other people in the picture are cropped out, leaving only the two of them standing.

"I knew your mommy for about two months when this was taken," Harvey tells the baby softly. "We had just won a case, I knew she had just broken up with the guy she was seeing. I kept hitting on her, she kept laughing at me."

With the picture so close, Rose moves her arm, as if reaching for it. She's only two months old, but she's relentless when she wants something. Reminds Donna of someone she knows very well. The baby gurgles and Harvey lets out a laugh.

"Yeah, I knew you'd laugh too. Your mom was right, I was a douche," he shakes his head. "I was in love with her, though. I just didn't know it yet."

Rose kicks her legs, her blue onesie stretching as she does so. She's growing so much so fast, in Donna's opinion. It feels like every day there's a new discovery, even if it's a small one. A butterfly out the window, the way she gazes at Donna when they're together, different sounds, different toys. It seems weird to think this way, but she really feels that having her was a way of giving herself a gift that she'll cherish forever. She's taken care of people her entire life, but Rosie is really entirely hers and Harvey's — and she feels as if she takes care of herself for her too. It's a new development.

Hearing Harvey say these things always get her though, no matter where she is. Her breath catches on her throat, but he doesn't notice her yet.

"I was a charmer though, wasn't I?" He continues, and she doesn't need to look to know he has that grin on his face. "Yes, I was. I'll admit that isn't my best haircut but I was _fine_."

He brings the picture closer and Rose's little fingers touch it. Harvey bristles.

"Of course you'd go for Mommy," he half complains. "Can't blame you. I always go for her myself. She just has that power over us," he shrugs and she sees as he puts the picture back on its place, then adds, "and better hair in general."

She does laugh at that — Donna, not the baby, because unfortunately Rose is much too young for that (they have seen her smile though; the books say it's probably just gas but they have seen her smile). Harvey turns slightly around, fully facing her, and Donna slips away from the first step of the stairs to go to them.

"How much did you hear?" He asks, holding Rose closer.

"A bit about you being in love with me since the day we met, but I knew that," she shrugs, trying not to make a big deal out of it. "It's always nice to hear it."

He smiles softly at her, letting her pick Rose from him.

"You've never said the same, though."

Donna kisses Rose's brow, holding her close. "That's because I didn't feel the same way. I thought you were a douchebag."

He makes a face. Donna laughs.

"It was the hair, wasn't it?" He jokingly asks.

She shakes her head, taking one step closer to kiss his lips. "You're an idiot," she runs her free hand through his hair. "I do like this better. And I did love you," she relents. "I feel like I've loved you forever."

His eyes soften and he kisses her again, this time more deeply. He cups her cheek and then her jaw and her neck, before his hands finally settle on her waist and they're as close as they can with the baby between them. They pull away before it gets to be a little too much.

"This one will eat in a bit and then we're good for an hour, maybe," Donna says while touching her nose against his.

"What are you saying?" Harvey asks, that mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I'm saying Mommy needs her Daddy time too," she arches her eyebrows.

He catches on fast.

"Come on, Rosie. Dinner time," he says, clapping his hands and bringing the baby's attention to himself. "Are you hungry yet?"

Donna laughs for a full minute.

* * *

Their anniversary is on a Monday. It's a full, busy day — Donna goes back to the theatre, even if she takes Rosie with her, Harvey is busy with a big case, although they make it in time to have a video call with Louis and Lucy to wish her a happy birthday even if they'll be going to New York next weekend for their goddaughter's party. It'll be Rosie's first airplane trip, and even though she's generally a good baby that doesn't mean her parents are any less anxious.

They opt to have a quiet dinner at home, despite Mike and Rachel's offer to take Rosie for the night. They've taken up on their babysitting offers on occasion, but never for a whole night, and they're simply not ready for it yet.

Maybe after the trip.

They end up having burgers out in the balcony with Rosie in her baby bouncer, snoozing on and off. Afterwards, they have a session of feeding in the living room while Harvey selects a few records for them to listen. When they're done, Harvey takes it upon himself to burp the baby and put her to sleep. Donna decides to make it special by having one glass of rosé in between feedings, concluding she'll be fine since Rosie will likely be asleep for a couple of hours. It's her first glass since finding out she was pregnant.

She moans a little at the first sip — it's not even her favorite, not even her first choice, but she opted for something light and a rather small amount. She's been missing her wine nights.

"How does that feel?" Harvey asks from the middle of the living room, quietly rocking the baby.

"Heavenly," she admits, folding her legs on the couch. Elvis is playing softly in the background — they found out a couple weeks ago Rosie is rather fond of his ballads to fall asleep to. "This is why we'll wait to have our second, by the way. I'm gonna need my wine fix once this one stops nursing."

It'd be a while yet, probably, but she doesn't mind; after the initial struggle, she loves the moments the two of them share. That doesn't mean she can't miss alcohol; she did spend most of her adult life having a glass after work and more than one glass on weekends.

"I thought you said you wanted them to be close in age," Harvey grins, challenge in his eyes.

Rosie is still young and they have no plans of giving her a sibling in the next few months — Donna isn't sure she can handle that, honestly — but they talk about it; Harvey had his younger brother but Donna was mainly raised as an only child since she only saw her half-sister occasionally, what with her being much older and living in a different state with her mother. She wants Rosie to have someone to play with and drive them crazy with.

In a year, maybe. They'll think more about it after her first birthday.

"Fine. But I'm drawing the line after our second," she gives in.

Harvey shakes his head, laughing. The movement draws Rosie's attention, and she's a little more alert than she was ten seconds ago. It doesn't last, though — it only takes Donna finishing her limited glass of wine for the baby to fall asleep to the tunes of "Always on my Mind", and maybe it's the wine or the song or just the sight of Harvey rocking the baby — _their_ _baby_ — to sleep. His mouth moves in tune with the song, his voice soft but discernible against the low volume of the music. When the chorus gets louder he looks at her, mouths the words, and she has to laugh — not because it's funny, but because a year ago he asked her to marry him and she said yes and they got married on a whim, and now they're across the country, spending a quiet evening in with their nearly three months old baby. Harvey smiles softly at her, the importance of the lyrics resounding between the two of them. As the song ends, however, the baby is fast asleep and her glass is empty, he leaves to put Rosie in her crib.

Donna decides to tidy up the living room a bit — Rosie's playmat is in the middle of the room, along with several toys she favors. It's a lot for a baby who has yet to learn how to roll on her own. She tears up all of a sudden, now that she's alone, and she's reminded of the many evenings spent alone while she knew Harvey was out with someone else, the evenings spent with someone else who wasn't Harvey, the evenings at the office sharing the same tumbler of whiskey but never exchanging a single touch.

They really got here in the end. It's not often that it downs on her, but tonight it does — with a frightening force.

Harvey finds her clutching a stuffed yellow seahorse to her chest. He puts the baby monitor next to the record player and walks towards her, engulfing her in an embrace. She lets go of the toy and hugs him back, nuzzling her face against his neck, sniffing slightly.

"Guess I shouldn't suggest that we have this song on when we renew our vows," he jokes.

She laughs. "No. That's just not us anymore."

"Hey. Come on," he coaches her, pulling away so he can look at her face properly. The record player is still on, a different Elvis song this time, one she doesn't care much for. "I'm sorry."

Whether he's apologizing for the past or the music choice, she doesn't care.

"Don't be. I'm just so happy," she reveals. "You make me so happy."

He gives her a goofy grin. "You said that at our wedding."

"It still stands," she tells him. "As do all the other things I said that day."

"You were pregnant then," Harvey reminds them both, the grin still on his face.

"I was _barely_ pregnant then," she rolls her eyes.

She pulls away and crouches down to get the seahorse back — tonight is definitely not as glamorous as their past celebration nights; she's wearing a rather short pair of shorts, a loose shirt, they're both barefooted, there are still toys scattered around. He's in similar attire — lounging shorts, a T-shirt. Their phones have been on mute since he got home and he had a beer instead of his usual scotch. The baby monitor's screen shows a sleeping Rosie in her crib.

"Hey, this song is better," Harvey says as they're both putting the toys away. He puts the baby's playmat on the corner and offers her his hand. "What do you say?"

"Harvey, the house is a mess," Donna half complains, already grasping his hand.

"Who cares? I wanna dance with my wife," he shrugs.

He holds her close, starting slow — they've danced a hundred songs together, whether it be platonically or not, many in this living room, and other living rooms in the past. It doesn't matter if it's New York or Seattle or anywhere else. She feels him breathing her in in that way he does, leaning down with his face on her neck, and she feels so complete and happy this evening she couldn't care less if it's not the two of them dancing in a fancy restaurant.

This is even more special.

The song reaches the chorus and he pulls away to grin at her.

"Ready?"

She grins right back. "Yeah."

He twirls her around like he did in their wedding day, and she laughs when she goes back to his arms and he surprises her by dipping her — there's not much she can do besides following his lead and grasping his shoulders. He laughs too, bright and broad, and she falls in love with him once more for today.

The song continues with him kissing the side of her head and her pressing her nose on his shoulder.

Their lives have changed a lot in the past year.

She can only see it getting better and better.

* * *

_Take my hand_

_Take my whole life too_

_For I can't help_

_Falling in love with you_


End file.
